


Setting Fire to our Insides for Fun

by kiss_the_apex



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angry Making-Out, Love/Hate, M/M, Martian, No Dialogue, classic tiny martian story, hate/love, written in 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 08:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21158816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_the_apex/pseuds/kiss_the_apex
Summary: An escalation.





	Setting Fire to our Insides for Fun

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2014, it was also posted here previously but has since been orphaned and slightly tweaked. So if it looks familiar, it probably is. Title comes from the song 'Youth' by Daughter.

What had started as a brush of legs in a press conference had since morphed into a great chimera of a thing that threatened to swallow Mark whole. 

The bumping of knees that became all too frequent, edging his own leg further towards him just so that he could feel that tiny moment of friction between them before he pulled away again, careful not to get too close or reveal too much. The brushing of hands as they stood next to each other, skin on skin, surely accidental. Surely.

The time when he allowed his leg _stay_ there, sharing each other’s warmth, feeling the heat mingle between them. Everything amplified because they were hidden from view but right in plain sight. He was uncomfortably hyper-aware of his own leg, of every single place where their limbs met, people were asking him questions and he was uncharacteristically stumbling over the answers. Sebastian was handling everything with practiced ease of course. Acting as if nothing was happening, as if everything was totally normal.

After that it became a kind of battle, as things so often were with them. Seeing who could pretend the hardest that everything was fine when in fact everything was falling apart. Or coming together.

A handshake that turned into claws and nails and skin. Leaving them both with little crescent moon indentations on the backs of their hands as they walked away.

A different press conference, where their feet deliberately intertwined so much his ankles were aching and twisted by the time they had to finally untangle themselves.

And then this night, when Sebastian came to his door, blue eyes alight with fury, mouth spouting words of hate and anger. He didn’t understand, didn’t understand that Mark had to leave, that whatever this was had grown out of control. Like a weed that had taken root in a bed of soil, it had overtaken everything, devoured all the goodness and leeched away at him until there was only one thing remaining. He tried to explain, to force Seb to listen, but Seb never listened. 

Seb wanted, and took and _had_.

There was shoving, strong arms pushing and pulling, a small lamp flying. Voices that were far too loud in a room that was surrounded by other guests. He tried to quieten him down, but he knew it was hopeless, he was too far gone. Too far lost in his own rage. All the times he had longed for touches like this were abruptly forgotten as he was getting them all now and more - fists, nails, hair.

Until all of a sudden there were lips, and tongues, and _taste_ and his insides were spiraling. All of those stolen moments and accidental touches had led up to this and he was consumed by it. Every thought about how he imagined this would happen flew out of his head, he was drowning in this, suffocating under the weight of this monster-kiss. They fell against a wall, mouths locked and teeth clashing and there was no time to think, no time to wonder about how they got here, about what they were doing. Everything was touch now, his skin aching for more, _more_. He clenched his fist in Sebastian’s hair and clamped him close, so he couldn’t escape, even if he wanted to. He had him. For once in his damn life, he had him.

Sebastian’s hands wound their way around his body and up to his neck where they held him like a vice. Seb wasn’t backing down, wasn’t willing to be the one trapped. Even in this state where they were one writhing being, he still wanted the upper hand, the control. He was the one keeping Mark against the wall, shifting his entire bodyweight forwards so they were connected from lips to knees. And still he wasn’t close enough.

Mark could feel Seb’s nails against his skin, cutting a path down the back of his scalp, dragging their way down his neck, he wasn’t gentle, of course he wasn’t. The kiss was still ongoing, evolving now into something much more breathless and frantic as they both realised that this wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Mark brought his free hand up to the other side of Seb’s head and that’s where it stayed. Both of them with their fists in each other’s hair, arms cocooning them, pressing into each other as hard as they dared.

It wasn’t until Mark had to come up for one particularly large gasp of air that he noticed that Sebastian’s eyes were open, and may well have been the whole time.

He stared up at him from beneath his brows with a look of such force and power and raw emotion, and uttered one lone word, strong and true.

“Mine.”


End file.
